


Sad Short Stories to Cry Over

by Mickskicks



Category: Original Work
Genre: AU kind of, Depression, For fun sadness, I do not copy stories, Other, Sad, Short Stories, Suicide, a lot of sad, and I will laugh, based off prompts and other stories, sad short stories, these are my own design, you will cry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 18:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14960084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mickskicks/pseuds/Mickskicks
Summary: This is a collection of many short sad stories that I have created. These do not have character that are canon or given backstory, just enough to make this sad, and from what other people said about my stories, well it's a lot of screaming.TIME TO VENT MY DUDES.





	1. The Cough

**Author's Note:**

> Hey man, you did it. You're reading my stuff. That's great! Your feelings are going to die, but right now, feel good. 
> 
> Feel good...
> 
> Story is loosely based off of My Little Pony creepypasta "The Cough".

Six people huddled together in the run-down barn they found on the deserted road. Aria would be found in the only bed there with rusted springs and rotten sheets, crying on Jackson’s shoulder. His face turned to stone with the memories of his family's demise. Hannah had found a sack of flour and held it close to her chest, drowning it with silent tears. Riley was pacing across the room, making a tap tap tap on the disintegrating floorboards and Willow was hiding in the corner. Dara was groping the darkness, trying to find any source of light.

But in the darkness, somebody coughed.

Dara’s head flew straight up, “Who coughed?!” Her efforts on trying to find a light source doubled. “Please! WHO COUGHED!?”

Aria stayed still and Jackson didn’t move. Hannah only clutched the bag closer to her body and Riley only stopped for a second before becoming more ferocious in her pacing. Willow pressed herself even closer to the corner, making fierce scratches and splinters form on her back. Dara eventually found a flashlight and turned it on. The batteries were dying so she shook it for a moment and the light only improved by a fraction.

Everybody hesitantly got up and got around Dara’s light, their faces covered in grime and mud. The faint light illuminated the cramped barn and the terrified, tear-streaked faces of her friends with shadows pooling at the corners, lurking just beyond the reach of the flickering flashlight. The Cough is one of the most dangerous epidemics to have ever wreaked havoc on this earth, already claiming more than half of the world’s population. The disease is highly lethal and contagious and the only way to tell if a person has it was the ever so subtle cough. Jackson’s family and Aria’s boyfriend have already met their fate by The Cough and Dara’s sister is dead from severe blood loss from her wounds caused by the infected.

Not a sound could be heard from the group except their heavy breathing. Suddenly, a voice came from the void.

“It was me, I’m sorry.”

Everyone gasped and turned to look at Willow, who was currently trying to avoid everyone’s gaze. “Please Willow, it can’t be you. Can it?” Hannah asked, surprise still evident on her face.

“I’m sorry to have put you through all this trouble,” Willow messed with her hair, but dropped it to meet Dara’s eyes.

“Oh, well… let's get this over with.”

“Wait! We don’t have to do this! Right? Right!?” Riley grabbed Dara by the shoulders, “She’s our friend! We can’t just, just…”

“I’m sorry, it's better to have five to make it out than none,” Dara pushed Riley off of her shoulders and Willow shivered in place. But Dara didn’t do anything else, she just stood there, flashlight in hand, watching Willow. “Riley, could you?”

Riley sighed, “Already on it,” She fumbled in the dark until she grasped her hands around a broken table leg, the only firm thing that this barn could provide. “Do… do we have to?”

¨Yes, we do Riley.” Dara put a hand on her shoulder. “Anyways, you already have done this before! I don't see what the big deal is,” replied Dara.

“No! I've never done this, but Jackson on the other hand…”

“Hey! They deserved it, and I wanted to live, unlike you,” Jackson interrupted, finally speaking after two hours of constant silence.

“Honey please, just stop,” Whispered Aria into Jackson’s arm that she was holding on to for emotional support.

“Well, at least I didn't kill my own sister!” Riley shot back.

“It was an accident! She got in the way of the knife!” Dara clutched her hand to her chest, like what movie characters do when they're offended.

As everyone kept arguing, Hannah slipped away into the dark and left Willow crying silent tears.

Then, a quiet sound somehow pierced through all the chaos:

“Please, just do it already.”

Riley looked over at Willow and sighed, “Dara, turn off the flashlight. Nobody should have to see this.” Dara nodded and turned off the flashlight, and the barn was back to being pitch black. Riley clutched the table leg and made a slow tap tap tap on the wood floors.

_Just one hard hit, simple and painless. She won’t even feel a thing._

Riley swung the table leg as hard as she could, it finally reaching Willow’s head. Hearing a thump, she felt satisfied, but she heard whimpering and panicked. She hit Willow, over and over again. She felt droplets of sticky liquid land on her as she just kept on hitting. The screaming thankfully stopped and Dara turned on her flashlight. The scene would have shocked the normal person, but to everyone here, nobody cared except Riley herself. She stood over her best friend’s lifeless body with her blood covering her head to toe. “What did I do?” Riley whispered, looking up to meet Dara’s gaze.

Dara looked back at Riley’s traumatized face, watching each tear fall as Riley fell to her knees, sobbing, “The right thing.” Dara then turned off her flashlight and sat down on the floor.

But in the darkness, somebody coughed.

 

( _Willow did not actually have The Cough, she only said so to save another. Now the question is, who coughed?_ )


	2. Another Day on the Assembly Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is based off of a song called "No Place Like Home" by Mariana's Trench.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you could tell, I'm starting with my oldest, up to my earliest. Quality will improve, I promise!

The day was March 27, the line-up. I squirmed in place as I was shoved from the person behind me. The wailing of children could be heard throughout the room and nobody even tried to stop them. I took a deep breath and wiped the sweat off my brow. Looking around, I saw thousands of people, packed into tight lines to be judged, one by one. People’s shirts were drenched in sweat and you could hear each breath each person took. But that made complete sense, this day was completely terrifying.   
The government says its about population control or a waste of resources, but everyone else thinks that they just want to control us like a circus show. Suddenly, a loud noise played over the intercoms, shaking everybody to their core, “Next!” The young, expecting mother in front of me stepped forward under the big metal arch, which was next to a young control guard. His face looked aged and worn, but his age couldn’t have been over 17. He then clutched his navy blue hat to his chest and grabbed the clipboard next to him.  
“Name.”  
The lady, who was clearly in her third trimester, took a breath and stuttered, “M-mary Rose Donna s-sir.”  
“Ok, Mrs. Donna, have you ever been in jail before?”  
“N-no sir.”  
“Are you married?”  
“Yes, to J-John Derek Bolwak.”  
“Hmm,” The guard ruffled through his papers and pulled out an inkblot. “What do you see?”  
The lady, she tried so hard, her hands shook left to right and her arms immediately went around her belly, as if it would protect the baby in any way, “I see, I see a-, I see a, um, an elephant?”  
The guard said something that sounded like a sigh and a grumble and he sat down his clipboard, “I’m sorry Miss, I’m gonna have to let you go.” He grasped the lever next to him, ready to pull.  
“Wait! I have a child! We’ve been trying so hard to have one and this is a once in a lifetime chance! You can’t-”  
She didn’t even get the chance to finish that sentence before the trapdoor she was standing on opened and she fell into a pool of burning acid, already full of the bodies before her. Just the smell of it burned every hair in my nostrils. The trapdoors then closed, but her screams could still be heard. A shiver went through the line and my breathing quickened. I grabbed at the sweat-soaked collar of my shirt and stretched it out. I was next.

“Next!”

I walked up under the arch, hearing each step that I took. Tap. Tap. Tap. I closed my eyes and imagined my family, cheering for me. I exhaled and looked at the young guard next to me. His eyes were fixated on the trapdoor below my feet. His breathing slowed and he looked up at me, and I finally saw his baby blue eyes. They weren’t murderous, they were soft and sad. He’s just a kid, I thought.  
“Name,” His voice was filled with sorrow.  
“Danni. Danni Redwood Sitar.”  
He sighed and flipped through his clipboard, “Oh, uh, by the way, you’ve never been arrested or married?”  
“Yes.”  
He pulled out another inkblot, different than the one before, “What do you see?”  
I froze, I know I shouldn't have, but I couldn’t help it. The inkblot looks like so many different things depending on the way you look at it. I gathered up my courage and made my decision, “It looks like two girls dancing.” He paused for a moment, only to make his way to the lever. I heard the entire crowd behind me gasp and hold their breath. Even the children became silent.  
“W-wait! Why are you doing this?”  
He put his hand gently on the lever, taking it in. He once again looked at me with his sad blue eyes, “You know we can’t have any creative minds in The Hive.” His grip on the lever tightened and before I knew it, the trapdoor below me opened and I was thrown into darkness.


	3. Stone Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of My Little Pony creepypasta "Stone Garden" but very, very loosely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the last completed and edited fic I did at the end of the school year!

I walked through the stone garden, admiring each and every statue displayed so elegantly on the Queen’s yard. I passed one after another, thankful that I got here at a time where there were no people littering the garden with their nonsense of ridiculous rumors. I looked up at this beautiful young girl, cast in marble, holding a book and smiling a genuine grin. I must have been there awhile, because an old fellow, dressed in brown tattered clothes came up to me.   
“Aren’t these statues beautiful?” I said.  
The old man scoffed. “Please, these are nothing but terrifying!”  
“I-I don’t understand.”  
He took me by the shoulders and looked at me. His grey eyes looked as if he has had a life full of misery and pain, “You do magic right?” I nodded. I fumbled around in the back of my backpack and pulled out a wand and a book.   
“Well, I hope that use your magic better than the Queen.”  
I felt anger riling up inside of me, bubbling up from my core. How dare he insult the Queen! “Well, maybe you’re just jealous of the Queen because she has beautiful statues and you don’t!”  
“Well at least I don’t turn people into stone.” And with that, he left. Leaving me with more questions than answers. Why? What? I-I… Why would he say something like that?  
I looked back at the statue, it’s beauty seeming to fade like days turning into nights. Her eyes looked glazed over and her smile looked like it faltered from the last time I met her. Hey, she actually looks familiar. Wasn’t she the Queen’s apprentice before me?  
I clutched my wand in my hand, feeling the stripping wood dig into my hand. The wand slowly spurted out a light purple color, soon encasing the statue itself in a glow. The stone slowly melted away and revealed…

Oh no.

Please don’t let this be true.

The stone melted away and revealed brown hair, peachish skin, and an unworldly scream. The girl wiggled back and forth, screaming her head off. “WHAT DID I DO! I DIDN’T MEAN IT, WHATEVER I DID! PLEASE HELP! HELP ME! ME!”  
As soon as she started screaming, I started to freeze her back up. Her beautiful face now had tears streaming down it and terror plastered all over. The book she was holding was almost ripped in half and she was in mid-scream, like she was in constant, terrible pain.   
Gasping for air, I looked around at the thousands of other statues, littering the garden. Each and every one was a former apprentice of the Queen. Like me.  
My eyes darted around the place, and I saw the her, the Queen. Standing at the edge of the garden path, watching me. I turned around, kicking up the dirt to get to a running start. but as soon as I turned around, she was there. Right in front of my face.  
“What exactly do you think you’re doing?”  
Gasping, I tried to get the words out, but my throat was catching every single one. “N-n-nothi-ing.”  
She hummed in response and looked at the statue, it’s face contorted and disfigured in horror. “Yeah, sure.” She reached in her pocket and pulled out a wand, encased in gold and polished with gemstones. “I heard you really like my statues, wanna join them?”  
I tried to run, but there was no escape. Her magic enwrapped me, pulling me close. I saw the face of my former hero, the person I looked up too, her face as cold as each and every statue here.   
“I’m sorry!” 

My feet were turning to stone.

“I won’t tell anybody I promise!”

It’s up to my waist.

“Please STOP!”

She’s starting to pose me, making me smile a painful grin.

“I’m sorry!”

It's almost to my head.

“I’M SORRY!”

I never got to finish.


	4. Don't Look at Me Like That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is COMPLETELY original, only based off the prompt of Hero Gone Bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting better with quality!

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Look at you like what?”

“Filled with disappointment,” I shrugged, already used to the well known glare of disappointment and failure. I shuffled around, feeling the gun on my waist and the new scar above my hip. It still stings.

“I’m not disappointed! You saved me! Why… why would I be disappointed?” His voice seemed to falter at the end, either in sympathy and confusion or just really bad lying, I don’t really know. He shoved his hands in his pockets. He really looked uncomfortable.

“Because I didn’t save you sooner? Because I didn’t look for you for a while when you first left? Because I’m not smart enough to find you on my own and needed help? Because I-” My voice hitched in my throat and I felt a sob. I held it back and kept going. “Because I suck as a friend? Because I...I… I deserve to…” I knew what I was trying to say was true! I felt it with all my heart. I lived off the thought that I shouldn’t exist, but saying it outloud? It’s feels like if I say it, it’ll be true. That I don’t deserve this world. I took a deep breath and gathered all my rampant emotions and looked at him. The person I rescued. The person, I don’t deserve.

But maybe, I don’t deserve him. Maybe I don’t need anyone. The feeling I’ve been dealing with on my own were caused by people. Selfish, self-loving, attention freaks. Just think about it. When a person dies, why are people sad? The only reason they are sad is because the person isn’t around anymore to do things with them! They are sad because they can’t talk to their mom anymore, they are sad that they can’t play with their friends anymore, they are sad when their favorite musician dies because they can’t play music for them anymore! When a child dies, we are sad that we don’t know what their potential was and just assumed that whatever they could do, it would make their lives better. Nobody ever thinks about how they feel, about what the dead will miss. 

People… Why do they exist? They are stupid, mean, selfish, and fake. I can’t trust them, and all they make me feel is worse about myself. What kind of a fucked up species does that?

“Hey… Look at me.” I whipped my head to the sound of his voice and looked at his face. It looked pained, sorrowful. I kept my gaze. “Good. Now listen here. You are a great friend. You went to great lengths to find me and I applaud you for that. I am so, so grateful, you wouldn’t understand. And needing help is not a sign of weakness, it's actually a strength! I am so proud of you and… I’m glad it was you.”

I breathed. Deep breaths in-and-out. I blinked. Looking at the grey ceiling above. I thought. Not much to form sentences, but enough to comprehend. I looked back down, and looked at his face. My face contorted into a scowl. “I don’t need your pity.” I spat.

He jumped back a little at that. “It wasn’t pity! I swear!”

“You are just like every goddamned person on this Earth. Selfish and fake!” I grabbed my gun on my waist, but didn’t take it out of the holster, the gun giving me some illusion of control.

“Please understand me! I am not lying!”

“Does it look like I believe you?” I dropped my hand from my gun and pointed to me. He was backing away several feet now. I gave out a breathy chuckle. “Too think that you are scared of me. I used to be scared of you and OH how the tables have turned.”

“I’ve never doubted you a day in my life. I’ve loved you for every second of it and I… I love you” 

Emotions exploded in my head, blinding my vision. Anger welled up inside and all I could see was red. I took my gun out of my holster. “STOP TELLING ME LIES!”

Bang.

I did it. I actually did it.

He laid there, bleeding and most importantly, dead. The root cause of all of my pain, was dead. I chuckled at that. Living and feeling the momentary high that I had actually had control. Closing my eyes and relishing the sweet taste of release. Soon, the high was gone. Reality crushed into me, but it seemed to go through me. I felt empty. Devoid of any emotion I once had. Looking at him again managed a spark of the joy I lost long ago, but it soon vanished. I looked at the gun in my hand, feeling a mission come inside my mind. 

To get rid of these unwanted, selfish animals of a species that caused me so much pain.

~Prompt: Hero gone bad.


	5. Run Home, Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is based off a short, short story I read. IT WASN'T EVEN A STORY. But it was soooo good. Also I made it into a story. Because I can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't that sad, at least for me. But it is still sad! Just not as much.

The school bell rang.

Kids rushed out but still took their time walking through the door. I pushed through the crowd and once I got out, I could already see a small crowd forming. One of the people there noticed me and motioned me over. “Hey, you ready to see the speedy kid?” He took a slow drag on his cigarette.

“Of course! Hey, careful man. You might get caught.” He took the cigarette out of his mouth and blew it in stranger’s faces and laughed.

“Heh, so what? My parents don’t really care anyways.” He took another drag, but then a person behind me pointed to a kid running as fast as he can to the street.

“Look! There he is!”

We all then started throwing lit cigarettes and insults at him and laughed like maniacs when we saw he had tears in his eyes. One of the guys took it too far and threw stones at the kid, but nobody stopped him, instead, we joined in. The stones creating a music fit for a villian.

We spat, we hissed, and most importantly, we laughed. We laughed even after he took a hard left ran out of sight. “Every day!” One person exclaimed. “Every day he runs home, like that! Every day!” He exploded in cacophonous laughter and walked off, slowly being joined by others. The group dispersed and I was left alone to walk home. I almost left the school yard when a different young boy ran up to me.

“Hey!” I turned around to find him glaring at me.

“What, chicken nugget?”

“Why would you make fun of my friend! You don’t even know why he runs home everyday!” His voice was loud, squeaky, and mad. He might have been tiny, but I do not want my shins broken, better play it safe.

“What does he run home to everyday?”

“Each day he arrives to school and he shows up covered in bruises! From you! And-” Ok, the kid was ignoring my question, dammit. 

“WHAT does he run home too?”

“Well wouldn’t you like to know.” He crossed his arms and looked me in the eyes.

I sighed, rubbing my hand against the bridge of my nose. “Whatever, I need to go home anyways. Bye, kid.” I turned to walk away before I felt him grab my arm. Booyah.

“WAIT! OK! Ok… I’ll tell you.”

“Finally.”

“He… He has a sister. And… everyday he runs home to, uh, make sure she hasn’t killed herself while he was gone for school.” My breath caught in my throat, leaving me unable to speak, but he kept going. “It has gotten really close, man. I… I’ve already said too much. But please don’t bully him anymore. He doesn’t need it.” He glanced at my face seeming sadly satisfied on the shock and pain on my face. “Well, bye.” And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving me to wait for the next day.

But the kid didn’t come to school the next day.

And then the next.

And the next.

And the next.

Soon, the kid’s been gone for a week.

When he came back… he stopped running home.

Prompt: Based on a true story. BASED, not what actually happened, but it did happen.


End file.
